


Negotiations

by CorsetJinx



Series: We never asked to be heroes [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alphinaud fretting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12914967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: Alphinaud’s spirits remain low after they reach Ishgard. It’s difficult to mend wounded pride.





	1. Chapter 1

Alphinaud’s huff of a sigh caught her attention, making her look away from the vague spot on the wall she’d been staring at for the past… well, Twelve knew how long. He didn’t seem to notice that his little outburst had drawn attention - or that he even had company at all. His glare remained fixed on his hands, balled up into fists. His spell book remained open before him on the table, but it didn’t look as though he’d turned a page recently.

Draining her cup Anemone cocked her head to see if anyone of their strange little group was present - though she quickly confirmed that it was, in fact, just the two of them. The lalafell and her Elezen friend had yet to return from… wherever they’d gone and Simone would likely be out for a while hunting. Knowing what she did of Isolde, which was little, she figured the xaela would be snug in the tavern - either keeping one ear to the ground and strumming her harp or having a drink and getting to know the locals.

Anemone wished her luck with it. Their reception into Ishgard hadn’t really inspired confidence that they might find allies besides this tenuous connection to House Fortemps.

_Fortemps_ , she thought to herself with a shake of her head, _Elezen names are the worst._

“Alphy,” she called softly, leaving her cup on the little table beside the chair she’d claimed. It was close to the hearth and the fire, practically the best seat in the room if she said so herself. “What’s the matter?”

Perhaps it was a sign of how lost in thought he was that he didn’t object to the nickname. Her knowledge of elezens was limited, but she had picked up on the fact that he preferred to be as straight-laced and proper as a nobleman. Or a scholar. Both.

Anemone watched him, concern finally starting to rear its head. When he still didn’t answer after another minute she stood, boots lightly scraping the floor as she closed distance. “Alphy? Did you forget something?”

His little head snapped up at last, surprising her and himself. The fierce annoyance in his expression turned into shock, then apology as he realized who’d spoken to him. He looked away almost bashfully, hands unfurling. “I… forgive me. I became lost in thought. Was there something you needed?”

_A stiff drink and a long time away from the snow and glares of elezen_ , she wanted to say but didn’t. It might have offended him, the little moogle fluff. The aether she’d gathered from the primals drummed in the back of her mind, whispers of their voices taunting and encouraging at turns.

Bahamut’s was the easiest - the loudest - to hear, and the easiest to tune out because of it. _He_ didn’t really like _anything_. Perhaps he’d get along with the elezen black mage in their little group and leave her alone for a bit.

“You sounded like a behemoth cub about to charge.” She hooked her foot around the leg of a chair close to him and pulled, watching Alphinaud all the while as she sat. Her tail pressed close, gently swishing. “Something besides the cold troubling you?”

He had the grace to look abashed at that. Ducking his head, he looked away again. _Anywhere_ , it seemed, but directly at her.

“Is it Alisaie?” She tried, studying what she could see of his face through the screen of his fringe. “Your sister is capable. She’ll be alright.”

Not the strongest offer of comfort, she knew. But it was what she had.

“Thank you.” Alphinaud slowly turned back to look at her, smiling briefly. Faintly. “It is true that I worry for Alisaie, but that is… not the whole of it.” He hesitated, lips parting, then apparently thought better of it. “Forgive me, the rest is only… I do not wish to bother you.”

“We have so much company for you to interrupt.” Anemone waved a hand, drawing his eye to the emptiness of the room. She smiled, leaning forward to fold her arms on the table and prop her chin on top of them. “Come, I’m sober and all ears. There’s obviously _something_ that’s bothering you.”

She watched him rally back and forth with her offer, flustered and getting himself riled up about it. Just when she thought she might have to try a different avenue of attack he finally sighed, deflating.

“Truth be told,” Alphinaud began, “I… I am frustrated by my own helplessness.”

The change in his voice made her sit up a little, tail pausing in its idle flicking. Studying the downcast turn of his mouth and lack of shine in his eyes, Anemone chose her words carefully. “What happened in Ul'dah, you mean?”

“No. Yes.” Another frustrated sigh. One of Alphinaud’s hands struck the table, narrowly missing his book. It made an impressive sound, though it lacked any true strength. “I wish that I could do _more_ than this.” Alphinaud waved a hand much like she had, features twisting. “More than _wait_ for someone else to take action. For news. I… I find myself wishing to be more like _you_.”

Her skin pickled at that. Ifrit’s great roar echoed in the chambers of her mind - bestial yes, but _intelligent_. He was laughing, in his way, at the little scholar.

She pushed the primal aside, relaxing her hands so that her claws would not dig furrows into the tabletop. “ _Me?_ Why? You’ve done plenty that I cannot.”

_Like talk to the Scions_ , she didn’t say. _To Thancred and Minfilia. You don’t trip over yourself trying to remember people’s names._

“Well,” Alphinaud scratched at his cheek sheepishly. “ _All_ of you might be the more accurate.”

Her tail cut sharply through the air. “You want to be a warrior of light, you mean? Crystal and all?”

“Yes.” Alphinaud didn’t seem to understand why she disliked the idea. “You… everyone we’ve met that bears the hopes of the crystal… _all_ of you have done so much for Eorzea. You have fought monsters and things called gods and you - ”

“Do a lot of waiting.” Anemone cut him off, drumming her nails against her scales.

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“You are over thinking this, for one.” She scanned the row of bottles neatly arranged on the shelf pressed against the far wall. _Some_ of them, she would wager, would have alcohol fit to make this conversation a little easier.

With effort Anemone turned away, focusing instead on Alphinaud’s earnest expression.

“For all the time you and I have known each other, _you_ are the one who manages to get things done.” She held up a finger to stop his protest, one corner of her mouth quirking. “If not for you I wouldn’t know who was who or where to find any of the places we’ve been. Certainly not _Ishgard_.”

Lowering her hand she tried to gather her thoughts for a moment. This felt, to her, like it was a reoccurring worry of his.

“You’re, what, sixteen?” She guessed, tilting her head.

He nodded.

“Then all of this is already unfair to you.” Anemone pointed out, crossing her legs. “You are a boy still, not a man, but even a man would run into the same issues you are having. Age does not magically convince anyone to follow you. Or listen at all, for that matter.”

“I am well aware of that.” Alphinaud insisted, frowning.

She didn’t doubt it per say. He spent a good bit of time acting far older than he was and being convincing at it. Even then some would just not change their minds.

“You do your part and more.” Anemone repeated. “As you are, you should only be worrying about studying and strengthening your magic. Not your grandfather’s research, the Scions, or saving the godsbedamned _world_.”

Alphinaud’s gaze widened at the sharpness in her tone. He looked surprised, even a little wary. “You think me incapable?”

_I will punt you into a snowdrift little elezen_ , she thought as she closed her eyes. Phoenix’s healing warmth curled in her chest, the last remnant of Louisioux’s voice asking that she have patience.

That he had left two children to carry on his duty among the Scions would always rub her the wrong way.

“Far from it, Alphy.” Standing, she crossed around the table to where he sat and put her arms around him. He stiffened, making some unintelligible noise in his throat. She squeezed him once, the sadness she felt all her own.

“You’re doing what no one else can. There isn’t a soul in Eorzea that has your point of view. Not even Alisaie.” Drawing back she swept back his fringe, smiling as he stared up at her. “I just think you’re pushing yourself to grow up too quick. That one day you might look back and regret it.”

He blinked, seemingly at a loss for words. “I do not think that I could regret committing myself to the better cause of saving the world. I thank you nonetheless for your concern.”

The way he patted her arm, as though _she_ were the one in need of consolation, made her want to sigh.

“Be careful.” Anemone sighed, shuffling his hair. “You should live first before thinking about those things.”


	2. Risky Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forging a pact with a primal is one thing. Thinking of interrogating one is another.
> 
> Fortunately for all, Alphinaud is a lv. 99 worrier.

“Are you certain that are willing to try this?” Alphinaud had his fretting face on. He kept pacing, disrupting her concentration.

Part of her wondered if he knew that and used it as motivation. But after all they’ve been through together Anemone cannot quite accuse him of deliberate sabotage. He’s _nervous_. Skeptical. She would be too if it weren’t for the thrum of aether in her body and the reluctant echo of voices she heard in it.

“Quite.” She blinked just as her eyes started to burn, steadying herself. “I, for one, want to know what else they might have had up their sleeves. If the Archbishop ever had any sort of backup plan if the Ascians double crossed him.”

“Will you be able to separate their voices?” He asked. “Not only will you have to contend with the voice of the primal itself, but those of the Heavens Ward as well. Perhaps we should ask - ”

Anemone crossed her legs, firmly putting a wall between herself and the roil of emotions that echoed back from Thordan and his knights. It was easier now than it had been. She’d learned not to let the initial cacophony overwhelm her hearing.

And she was already good at mitigating her own anger, so added input from a primal was a rare concern.

“I still wonder if this is a good idea.” Alphinaud’s lower lip disappeared between his teeth.

“Alphy.” She leaned towards him, ruffling his hair. “If anything happens - not that I expect it to - you’ve my permission to whack me about the head. If you are truly afraid, I shall ask Aymeric to stand guard over me.”

For a moment she thought he would still refuse or worse, beg her off this little idea. She’d cave, if he pressed hard enough. The boy could be worse than his Carbuncles when he wanted his own way.

“I shall stand guard over you, my friend.” Lifting his chin Alphinaud laid a hand over his heart, sweet face frighteningly serious. “I would not wish to alarm the Lord Commander when he is preoccupied with other matters.”

“Very well.” Drawing back she rolled her shoulders, tail swaying as her posture relaxed. Scratching at an itch on her horn Anemone narrowed her eyes in thought. “Will you meet with me outside main gate in a bell? I don’t want to risk any passerby getting involved.”

“Of course.” Alphinaud’s head dipped, his long tail of hair bobbing. “I will prepare accordingly.”

She favored him with a smile. “Try and remember your coat. I couldn’t bear it if you froze.”


End file.
